


Where's The Weedwhacker When You Need It

by Lady_Phenyx



Series: Whumptober 2019 [8]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: (spoiler: it's a vine under joxter's smock/over his shirt), Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Joxter, ask to tag, mostly just suggestive but tagged to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: The crew of theOshun Oxtracome across a lot of islands during their journey. Some good, some bad.This one...was one of the bad ones.Whumptober Day 6: Dragged Off





	Where's The Weedwhacker When You Need It

Islands were the best part of traveling on the _Oshun Oxtra_ to Moomin.

Sometimes they were wild, never having been settled by anyone but the animals and plants that grew there. Sometimes, they'd been deserted. Sometimes they only seemed that way until they went adventuring inland and found people who chose to live isolated and on their own, thank you, interesting to meet you but please don't stay long. And don't tell anyone you found us, please and thank you.

It was adventure, exploration, and it was all that Moomin had dreamed of when they first set sail and more.

There were some close calls, some danger, but to Moomin's way of thinking they added a bit of spice. He'd had enough of orderly and 'safe' in the orphanage.

Joxter and Muddler weren't too fond of adventure, as it disturbed naps and their collection respectively.

Still, they came along to explore, and made themselves useful in their own ways, and though they might roll their eyes or protest they were still there.

The worst islands were the ones that had once had people, but whose homes were abandoned, left for nature to reclaim.

There was often no way to tell just what had happened, and Hodgkins urged them off those islands as quickly as possible, once they'd refilled water supplies or food, even before if those supplies were still holding strong.

\---XXX---

Moomin raced to the railing, calling out, “Look! Look, an island!”

“Well, I suppose it's something new to look at,” Joxter yawned, rolling over onto his back from the tight curl he'd achieved on the sunniest spot on the deck, somehow managing to nap in that position. Stretching, he made his way over to lean on the railing next to Moomin, watching as the island drew closer.

There was a brief burst of activity as the _Oshun Oxtra_ pulled up to the island, in getting her anchored securely and the four of them to land.

The small boat they used for landings was pulled up on the sand while the _Oxtra_ was anchored in the deeper waters of the bay, and the four of them stepped onto the sand, looking around curiously.

“There's some buildings over there,” Joxter said, pointing. “Try them first, or avoid civilization as long as possible?”

“Let's get it over with,” Hodgkins said, setting off towards the buildings. “If they're going to try and arrest us for being on their island – _again_ – I'd like to know ahead of time rather than during another ambush.”

\---XXX---

The four walked slowly down the main street of the little village, a street faced by small, round homes.

No one came to the doors to see them. No dogs barked, nothing moved, and there was no sound save the faint creaking of a door left open moving in the sea breeze.

Joxter strode towards the house, leaning in to look around even as Moomin started to weakly protest.

“There's food still on the table,” he announced, stepping back into the sunlight. “But it's old – dusty, but not totally gone yet. Chairs knocked over, kettle left to boil dry. Looks like they left in a hurry, and I can't tell if they went willingly. Nothing says violence, and I don't smell blood, but...” he shrugged as Muddler clung to his uncle.

“Don't say things like that!” he wailed.

“I said it _doesn't _look violent,” Joxter said, surprisingly patient. “It looks like they just...rushed out in a hurry.”

“I don't like this,” Muddler whimpered. “It's spooky.”

“We should head back if it's been abandoned,” Hodgkins said, patting Muddler.

“Let's...let's keep going,” Moomin said. “We might find something yet. If it wasn't violent and it's old, then we shouldn't give up so soon.”

\---XXX---

They walked deeper into the village as the sun began to beat down on them, warming the streets. Moomin watched the forest, which was closing in on the village closer and tighter, warily until his eye caught bright colors.

“Oh, look, berries!” he said, hurrying over. He reached for the ripe berries eagerly, yelping when he was suddenly grabbed and yanked back.

“Don't touch those!” Joxter snapped, bodily hauling Moomin away from the bush as if he'd eat one out of spite.

Well, all things considered, it was a possibility.

“Why not?” Moomin demanded. “I'm hungry!”

“Poison,” Joxter said shortly. “They'll make you sick enough you'll wish they'd just killed you.”

Moomin's ears drooped and he stopped trying to get away, letting Joxter drag him back limply. “Oh.”

Joxter let him go once it was clear Moomin wasn't going back for the berries, giving him a pat on the back, a quick rub, almost an apology for the rough treatment that Moomin wasn't protesting.

They started walking again, and Moomin shot a quick glance back at the berries.

It wasn't fair that they looked so good but were so dangerous!

\---XXX---

The vines started a little after the incident with the berries.

They were hardly noticeable at first, growing heavier and heavier over the houses as they walked until they dominated the village, covering the small, almost hutlike houses in their grip.

Their leaves rustled in the breeze and Joxter eyed them suspiciously as they passed under and through them.

“They must have been gone a long time, for the vines to grow like this,” Hodgkins said, looking up at the vines.

“The food wasn't that old,” Joxter grumbled softly. “I could still tell what it was. A week, at most. I don't like this. It gives me forebodings. Vague ones but forebodings.”

Hodgkins glanced over at Joxter. “Let's...go see about water and supplies. Muddler's right, something's not right here. Moomin, we've explored enough. Let's leave this place to its memories and move on.”

Muddler, still clinging to his uncle, nodded so rapidly he nearly lost his pot.

\---XXX---

They set up camp on the beach, far from the abandoned village.

Joxter and Muddler were both uneasy, but apart from Muddler jumping at each sound, were quiet about it. Joxter was on edge, looking towards the forest suspiciously, but wouldn't say more about it than, “Forebodings.”

They might have gotten back on the _Oshun Oxtra_ and sailed, but night had already fallen by the time they had restocked, and nothing bad had happened yet, so...

They would set sail in the morning.

\---XXX---

Moomin was fast asleep when the commotion started, as were the rest, fast asleep as vines crept closer to their sleeping forms inch by inch, slow but determined, rustling across the ground, silent under the noise of the waves.

Until Muddler screamed.

Moomin shot upright, as did Hodgkins, both of them needing a moment to wake.

A moment they didn't have, as the vine that had looped around Muddler's ankle began to drag him away, yanking him across the sand swiftly.

Joxter pounced on it, claws bared, and the vines whipped against the night sky as his claws shredded through them.

They slashed down at Joxter and he leapt out of the way, barely avoiding the vines as they lashed into the sand. He slid as he landed on the sand, losing his balance.

The lashing vine separated him and Muddler, and more vines lashed out, wrapping around both Joxter and Muddler, around arms and legs and waists.

Joxter thudded to the ground, thrashing and struggling, squalling with rage while the vines got a better grip and Muddler clawed at the sand and yelled.

Moomin struggled out of his blankets, throwing himself at the vines with his own claws.

The vines slapped him away, sending him rolling across the sand, and began dragging the two it held away swiftly, neither of them able to get a grip on the sand to slow themselves.

Hodgkins went after it with an axe and met the same fate as Moomin.

Moomin shook his head, dizzy, and scrambled to his feet as the vines dragged both Joxter and Muddler off into the bushes, disappearing from sight.

\---XXX---

Moomin and Hodgkins fought through the bushes, following the trail of broken limbs Joxter and Muddler left behind, the sounds of their cries as the two of them continued to fight back with everything they had.

Moomin had a knife from their supplies and Hodgkins their axe, and both were terrified they would be too late, of what might already be happening as they tried to follow and the cries grew softer with distance.

\---XXX---

Joxter kept trying to struggle, though the vines were so tight now they hurt and he could barely move.

He was scratched up and dirtier than usual, dirty enough even he knew he'd have to – ugh – take a bath if they got out of this.

Muddler was crying, somewhere in the bushes, but Joxter couldn't see him.

Not until they were pulled out of the bushes to hang in front of the main plant.

“What do you want?” Joxter snarled as Muddler cried, large, fat tears that dripped down his cheeks and made Joxter want to get his claws into the plant again.

A flower appeared in the middle of the plant, and Muddler's cries softened, though the tears didn't stop.

“Friends?” the flower said, tilting as it looked up at them. It was a soft, chirping voice, and the face emerged slowly from the main body of the plant.

It was a face inside the flower's center, on another vine, one that rose and rose to come close to Joxter's face, examining him closely. From here, Joxter could see the details he couldn't have seen from so far – how green the eyes were, the sharpness of the teeth hidden behind the leaflike lips, how close to a face yet so far it looked.

It grinned, displaying those teeth. “Friends? Food?” it said, as if it were debating.

It turned to look at Muddler, edging closer and closer.

“Leave him alone!” Joxter snapped.

The face turned back to him, and Joxter's breath quickened as it shot back to him, closer than before. “Friend, yes? Others say yes, then hurt. Food then.” It liked those leaf-like lips with a tongue as green as its vines. Its eyes lit up, and a vine started teasing the edge of Joxter's smock, slipping up underneath to wrap around his waist, curling over his shirt gently, loosely, as Joxter went very, very still. “Friend play? Play game with friend. Fun game.”

\---XXX---

Hodgkins and Moomin burst out of the bushes to find a mass of vines, writing and moving slowly, save for the batch holding Joxter and Muddler aloft.

Muddler was crying, begging the plant to leave Joxter alone while Joxter squirmed in the vines' hold, little twitches he couldn't seem to stop. Several of the vines were under his smock, moving sinuously, and the two on the ground couldn't tell what they were doing.

It didn't matter. They needed to let Joxter and Muddler go, _now._

Moomin launched himself at the vines holding Joxter while Hodgkins attacked the ones holding up Muddler.

Something let out a screech, and a face in a flower, teeth bared and eyes blazing, whipped around from where it had been hovering close to Joxter's face, as if trying to catch every expression he made as it played with him.

“Bad! Mean friends!” it screeched.

“Put them down!” Moomin demanded, slashing at the vines that whipped at him. “Let them go right now!”

Hodgkins swung the axe, not at the vines targeting him, but at the vine holding up the head.

There was another screech, and both Joxter and Muddler were dropped with sickening thuds as the vines lashed out at Hodgkins.

Joxter was lying on the ground, not moving, as Muddler scrambled over to him.

Moomin slashed at the vines attacking them as Hodkins chopped again and again at the main vine, face stoic and set.

With a final wail, the plant retreated, skittering along the ground and disappearing.

They didn't hesitate.

Hodgkins snatched up Muddler and Moomin Joxter, slinging them over their shoulders and running as fast as their legs would carry them back through the path they had beaten through the bushes, back towards the beach.

Muddler and Joxter were laid in the small boat, the supplies tossed in after them, and Hodgkins and Moomin shoved the boat into the water, leaping in and rowing out to the _Oxtra._

Joxter was panting softly, slowly rousing as Muddler clung to his arm, silently recovering.

He made it onto the _Oxtra_ on his own power, leaning against the rail with both hands as the ship's engines roared to life and they raced away from the island.

Joxter staggered away from the railing then and made his slow, unsteady way to his room, still unspeaking.

\---XXX---

He didn't emerge the next morning, and Moomin went to find him as the day shifted towards afternoon.

“Joxter? Can I come in?” he called, knocking at the door. There was no answer, so Moomin cracked the door open.

Joxter was lying on his bed, curled up tightly, even his tail wrapped around himself.

“Joxter?” Moomin stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. “You gonna be okay?”

Joxter shrugged.

When Moomin didn't leave, he sighed and sat up, looking over at Moomin. His mouth was set, eyes dull.

“Muddler told us you kept drawing that thing's attention so it would leave him alone,” Moomin said, daring to come over and sit on the bed. “So maybe you're feeling pretty bad about what happened – we couldn't tell what it was doing from below – but that was really brave of you.”

Joxter sighed, moving to sit next to Moomin and leaning against him. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Moomin asked.

Joxter shrugged again. “I don't know what it wanted,” he said, quietly. “I was afraid. It couldn't seem to decide what it wanted to do with us. It's good you got there when you did.”

Moomin slowly reached up to squeeze Joxter in a one armed hug. “We're a team, now, aren't we? So we'll always come for each other.”

Joxter snorted softly. “Well. That would be new.” He glanced at Moomin out of the corner of his eyes, tilting his head, smile a touch bitter. It softened when he got a good look at Moomin's face and the earnestness there. “There are people out there who don't like mumriks on principle. I guess I got used to that.”

“Well, when you do break into people's houses just because they were locked,” Moomin huffed as Joxter snickered. “...it's not that, is it?” he asked after a moment, drooping.

Joxter took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he stood. “That's a conversation for another day. Come on, you're likely never to hear me say this again, but I need a bath. I'm too dirty for even me.”


End file.
